He guided me into the kitchen with a hand at my back, and only when the wall finally stood between us and the foyer did the tension begin to ease.
Once the boxes were on the counter, he turned to me—hands finding my hips. “Are you okay?” he asked, pulling me close.
“I wasn’t expectinghimto come.” The words came out clipped, laced with acid.
“I know. And I’m sorry. Say the word, and I’ll kick them out.”
“What?” I huffed. “No longer want to make my decisions for me?”
“I told you,” his eyes locked on mine, “I’ll never stop you from seeing the people you care about. But having said that,” he murmured, voice dropping into something darker, “I fuckinghate that guy. And I have a nagging suspicion their presence is not going to be what you need tonight. Things with Elion are still fresh. Very fresh.”
“I know.” I dipped my chin, shame and exhaustion tugging it down. “But Candace brought dinner and—”
“There is noand,” he cut in—not unkind, but firm. “If you think they’ll help you, they can stay. If you think they’ll make things harder or uncomfortable for you, they leave. You know my stance.” His thumbs brushed the sides of my waist, grounding me. “Now you decide what yours is.”
I leaned into him, letting the warm press of his chest steady the spin in my head.
He was right.
Just like at the antique shop, I was raw. Emotional. Barely stitched back together after this morning. The world still felt like it was tilting under my feet.
“Damien!” Candace bounced into the kitchen, eyes wide as she took in the marble counters and the skyline beyond the windows. “Your home is amazing.”
“It’s a pretty nice pad,” Garrett added, wandering in after her. His mouth twisted into an appreciative frown I didn’t trust for a second.
“Thank you.”
Garrett’s focus snagged on Damien’s hold on my waist. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Two little lovebirds, huh?” he joked.
“What can I say?” Damien replied smoothly, tightening his grip. “I find it impossible to keep my hands off her for very long.”
Candace snorted. “Oh, please. The two of you are ridiculous.”
And suddenly—every emotion, every fear, every instinct about what this dinner could turn into died. Overpowered by the politeness ingrained in my bones.
“Damien set a table for us tonight. If you two want to… take a seat,” I blurted.
Candace breezed ahead, oblivious. Garrett trailed after her, nosing around the penthouse like he owned the place.
Damien’s large hands gently squeezed my waist. “Your call.”
“It’ll be fine,” I tried to reassure him.
He gave me a look that said it absolutely would not be fine, but I slipped out of his arms anyway and reached for the takeout containers.
I rummaged in the drawer for a serving spoon. “Thanks again for bringing dinner, Candace.”
Damien’s hand tapped mine—beating me to it.
“Go sit.” He popped open a container. “I’ve got this.”
“Thank you,” I said, turning away and sinking into the seat beside Candace.
“No dumplings for me,” Garrett called over his shoulder, like he was issuing a demand.
A smile curved at my mouth as I watched Damien plop two dumplings onto Garrett’s plate anyway.
Candace turned toward me, her face softening into that pitying concern I hated. “How are you holding up?”
